Unconventional
by Xyliette
Summary: Addison's first Christmas in L.A. produces some flashbacks and unexpected visitors. Derek/Addison, Mark/Addison or Pete/Addison. You pick, three endings.


A/N: So to start there are three endings to this fic and if I thought I could do Alex any justice I probably would have given him a shot too. I'm kind of curious everyone's preference because frankly these days I have a lot of time on my hands. Also this has been done in like 9 different drafts therefore a major kudos to my beta for reading every last one. I'm more into the dead baby idea sort of Christmas fic and this gets a little fluffy so I've come to terms that I will never be one hundred and ten percent happy with it. Enjoy-

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**_"This isn't going right. This is going left."  
_**_- Ivoryline, "Taking Every Chance You Know How"_**_  
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Gliding out of the elevator she stands in front of Dell patiently waiting for her messages while glancing over the newspaper. She still reads _The Times_ because some habits die hard and in her opinion nothing is better than the Sunday crossword and a steaming cup of coffee in bed. Her eyes flitter over the Christmas ads and her stomach lurches when she realizes just how many more days she will have to endure of the singing atmosphere around her.  
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The office literally looks like Santa threw up. There are festive lights dancing all across the ceiling courtesy of Dell's imagination and Sam lugged in the large fake tree the day after Thanksgiving. They decorated together with everyone bitching and moaning in appropriate amounts except for her. She isn't sure what to do with this holiday anymore so she stayed silent and hung the things she was handed without complaint. There is never a more depressing time to be alone than Christmas. It goes without saying that everyone should be spending this joyous time of year with someone; but that no longer fits into her life. She has no one. But the best part is that there is no one to blame but herself.

There are little snowflakes that Cooper cut out with some off his patients pasted to everyone's office windows and covering the once neat conference table. Window cling-ons of Santa and the crew can be found inside exam rooms and even the standard fuchsia colored scrubs have somehow turned into a vibrant evergreen color. She vehemently opposed the notion of some of them wearing red and some of them wearing green. The line had to be drawn somewhere and walking around looking like an elf was not going to improve her mood, however funny Cooper thought it would be.

Silver and blue intertwined garland litters the edges of countertops and slowly but surely the mess has begun to infiltrate her work space. Her office is now home to a ridiculous fake four inch tree that sits on the end of an otherwise uncluttered desk. Tiny ceramic ornaments taunt her as they spin in the warm filtered air. Violet had brought her some sort of funky candle that smelled reminiscent of gingerbread and eggnog and she faked an allergic reaction and a headache to get it the hell out of her breathable surrounding.  
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During her Thanksgiving song and dance this year she had decided to quit Christmas. It's illogical but it made sense in her head. Unfortunately, she failed to convey the message properly to the people around her and is now drowning in the sea of yuletide joy.

"What the hell is your deal?" Naomi dares dragging her by the arm into her own office. They are four evenings away from the day she plans to spend pleasantly depressed and half drunk.

"I quit Christmas Nae. Why does no one understand that?"

"Maybe because you can't quit Christmas! Ever think of that genius?"

She slouches into her office chair and folds her legs lazily across one another. She has taken to wearing more black and at first it was completely subconscious but it now feels fitting. She is mourning something after all. "Well not with all of you forcing it down my throat I can't." She flicks the stupid tree on her desk for emphasis and huffs like a five year old.

"This is insane Addison. This is your season, you love Christmas. Remember when you made Sam and I go caroling? None of us can sing but you were dead set on annoying your neighbors. Thank god for the alcohol, I thought Mark was going to throw down when you announced that we were going around the whole block."

"It's not my season."

"It is too. God, this is so…so not you. You move down here and expect everything to magically change your life but you don't even give it any opportunity to. Bitching about the rain, and it may rain on Christmas so don't go getting all up in arms about it, complaining about working alone, whining about not being able to cut. You picked this Addison. You could at least try to not be so despondent. Give yourself a fighting chance."

She glares back toward her friend. It isn't that Naomi isn't right; it's that she doesn't want to hear it. She knows she is miserable, heaven forbid someone point it out to her. But there's a reason and the thing that hurts the most is that no one is willing to take into account that she may actually still be hung up on her old life, friends, and traditions. Moving doesn't fix everything; it doesn't make your past disappear and it certainly doesn't take that aching pain away. The notion was merely another futile shoot and miss situation to add to her books.

"You can leave anytime now." She mutters back and spins her chair to face the window getting lost in the memories that she tries so hard to forget.  
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_"Derek! Even the handicapped kid is skating better than you!" Mark calls out from the other side of the rink and Addison grimaces sending an apologetic face to the parents of poor said child. Looking behind her she sees_ _Derek flat on his back rubbing his head with a black mitt covered hand. She slams her toe-pick into the ice and turns back to help her griping husband._

_Reaching down she intends to help him up but instead he decides that someone else should be unhappy and pulls so hard that she tumbles onto him. "Derek!" She pounds her fists against his chest trying to set her skates right so that she can stand again but he thinks differently and brushes the hair that has fallen out of the white hat on her head. Lightly running a finger along her jaw he leans in for a quick peck. His gleaming eyes are cut short by Mark's abrupt stop that forces ice shavings onto both of their faces._

_"Get a room already." He turns away looking disgusted and races past everyone in his way._

_Derek slams his head back against the ice. "I hate skating Addie."_

_Grinning she stands and once more offers her hand. "I know but you look so cute trying. Besides it's tradition now."_

_"Mark should have brought a date this year so he could stop pointing out my falls. Not all of us were hockey players."_

_"I thought he played football." He reaches for her hand once they are standing and she helps him awkwardly shuffle along the ice._

_"Both. You owe me for this." Dropping behind him she lightly pushes him along until the embarrassment is too much and he purposely falls again taking her down in the mess. If he can't spend time on his feet he may as well spend time with her on top of him while the ice threatens to penetrate his warm winter coat._

_"You know, you would think you would get a little better after all these years."_

_"I'm a lost cause."_

She didn't know it then but that would be the last year of ice skating. They were both lost causes.  
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Her mind suddenly switches to their last in New York and although she wants nothing more than to forget it; it is one of those things that is perfectly imprinted. Every detail, every color and scent she can conjure up.  
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"So tonight right? You promised Derek." She shoves the magazine under his nose again and gives him a warm grin when he dares to look up._

_"I promised and I will be there but right now I really need to focus Add. Okay? Just go torment Mark for a little while until I am out of surgery." He snaps the chart shut and stalks off without another word._

_"That was brutal." Mark replies sidling up to her._

_"Shut up." Is the only reply she can think of at the time and it now sounds immature and defensive leaving her red lips._

_"I'll be there."_

_"You aren't invited. We have to buy a gift for you too, if you are there it kind of defeats the purpose…don't you think?"_

_"I meant when he doesn't show up tonight. I'll be there." He lightly traces his fingers along her cheek before stepping back. "I'm here for you even when my best friend is an ass. It's your season, you get to be happy." He walks off leaving destruction in the wake. It wasn't the beginning of the downfall. Far from it actually but when Derek didn't show that night and she greeted Mark on their doorstep she realized that she had officially lost her husband._  
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Her memories quelled for the moment she stands and straightens her skirt trying not to cry and trying not to feel ridiculous for trying not to cry. She's shutting down, absolutely refusing to think of what they did in Seattle as a celebration of any sort of holiday. Derek hid out in the hospital and she sat, again, waiting for him all day. As she steps out of her office and into the hallway a bantering expectant couple rambles on about how excited they are for next year and how much they can't wait to meet their son. Then there's nothing, complete numbness. She gives a little wave and smile but there is not a single emotion behind the façade.

When she was younger Christmas used to leave her with a sense of longing desperation and of extreme disappointment. It hurt for reasons that she wasn't even old enough to understand at the time. Then there were all the great times she had with Derek and even Mark in New York that more than made up for the shitty life she had before. From the hot chocolate to watching them curse at each other while hanging the lights it was all hauntingly perfect. Dashing out of the office unnoticed she recounts the caroling, the holiday parties she spent on Derek's arm (in the later years Mark's), decorating gingerbread houses with her nieces and nephews and that insatiable wonderment of Christmas morning. She shakes her head and lets the coldness take its spot back in her heart. She doesn't feel anything about the holidays anymore and it is starting to drive her a little crazy.

After being on both ends of the spectrum (and in between if you want to count it) she at least has a better understanding for those who don't do Christmas. There's a reason; people don't quit it for kicks. More often than not they will look you straight in the eye and say it is because it has become to commercialized and impersonal. It's a fact of life but that's never the reason why someone quits. There's a story and she isn't telling hers to a soul because she can't justify reliving the trauma even if it is just to Violet, who would probably send her a Christmas card with her billed hours inside.  
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Holidays reverberate pain. Traumatic events like death or any sort of loss are only signified by holidays because of the traditions that are carried through out the years. If someone's job is to make the crust for the pumpkin pie (Mark, even though he botched it every single year) and to hang the lights on the tree (Derek) before decorations can be put up (which was a decidedly collective event) then you notice when they are gone. You always notice and it hurts like hell. It is an unspoken club of agony because after the first year of the missing person one is supposed to be able to move on and deal accordingly but it never works that way.

Derek left her emotionally and for all other intents and purposes but physically long before she left him but somehow during Christmas they could make it work. Even in Seattle things could have been worse, he did manage to make it home at some point with a half thought out gift after all. She twists the key into the ignition and lets the roaring engine fill her empty ears. Four more days.

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The lights were the one thing she always cherished. She would sit in the darkness of the front room and watch the tree for hours. From age 4 to age 36 it never got old. She would take in the shades as they bounced off the dangling bulbs and grin for no reason. Once she even made Derek drive around her old hometown in Connecticut to see the houses with the best displays. It was the lights that always did it for her, like some sort of colored hope filling the blackness. Glancing at her neighbor's roof and front door she sighs, nothing again. For her it was merely another day of babbling animated patients and zero deliveries. She is kind of hoping someone gets stressed and goes into early labor so she has something to do tonight; Christmas Eve.

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"Go away." She demands stepping into her house to find Pete holding forth a bottle of wine. "Better yet, how did you get into my house?"

"Back door was unlocked. Naomi took Maya to her parent's house and Sam is having a little get together if you are interested. Well, really it is Sam and I. Violet went somewhere and even Cooper apparently has family that will deal with his immature ass…so it is Sam and I and alcohol…wanna play?"

"You're drunk."

"You're observant. We make a good pair." He shrugs and makes his way forward through her decoration-less home. Putting up a tree, and little touches for no one to see but her seemed like a serious waste of energy and time.

"Not interested. Go back to Sam." She pushes the bottle in his hand away, she has plenty stocked in her own cupboard.

"You miss him." He murmurs while still moving closer.

"You don't know what you are talking about. Inebriation does that."

"No…you miss him. You miss them…everything. Naomi said that's why you have been so-"

She stops him in that moment. It isn't a damn bit of his business even if he is there out of the goodness of his heart. He doesn't want more, he wants fun and a talk about how her life sucks in no way resembles fun. But moreover if she talks he might follow along and she isn't in the mood to deal with the fact that his wife is dead or make a rash decision like falling into bed with him solely because they are both hurting. It may be cold and callous but she feels nothing else in the moment and has to run with something.

"Pete, look at me." He tilts his head forward and sets on a smug smile like he caught her in some sort of trap. "I moved down here so I didn't have to be in a town with those people. If I cared to- I know where to find them, so you are wrong. Please go back to Sam; I am not interested in company tonight."

"But misery loves company and you Addison Montgomery are miserable if I've ever seen it…and I know miserable." He points his finger as she spins him back toward the back door and gives him a little shove. No one ever said that man was not intuitive.

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She awakens in a cold sweat and gasping for air. As soon as her eyes spring open she forgets the nightmare and acknowledges that the reality is so much worse. She pats the bed to ensure that she didn't lose her mind last night and go find Pete. Reassured she kicks her legs out from under the blankets and her feet make contact with the cold wooden floor. Her head aches with the reminder of how many bottles she will find downstairs and her stomach twists with the kind of nausea she hasn't felt since…well she would prefer not to think about that today. She has enough on her plate.

The OWG is closed for the day and as she brushes her teeth she ponders breaking in to work on some charts before realizing that she doesn't have any work waiting for her. She stumbles down the stairs pulling her un-festive blue robe tighter and hits the forth step down when she first hears the doorbell ringing incessantly. Covering her ears she shouts to the door that she will be there in her own sweet time and grimaces when it doesn't stop.

Swinging the door wide she exclaims without looking, "Damn it Naomi not everyone loves Christmas," and then lets her mouth fall when she sees who it is.  
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**_Ending 1  
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She straightens her hair before trying to speak again. "Derek, what are you doing here?"

He projects the recycled cardboard holder forward encouraging her to take coffee before replying. "It's Christmas."

Stepping backward she allows him inside and follows him as he explores. "You aren't with Meredith?" She doesn't mean in the dating sense but in the literal sense as he is standing in front of her.

"She chose to celebrate with her parentless friends, I chose you, we fought, and I'm here anyway. Where is your tree Addie?"

"Didn't get one." She mutters and begins grabbing the empty bottles that clutter the coffee table. She never discussed with him the implications of how her Christmas' pre-him went and she never will. He doesn't need to know.

"Host a party?" She doesn't reply. The "party" was a solo adventure and she is definitely regretting it now. He lightly reaches for her arm forcing her into an unwarranted hug and whispers, "I'm sorry."

They brush cheeks when pulling back and she curses herself for feeling the warm sensation rise in her chest. "Not a problem Derek. You want anything to drink or eat?"

"It's Christmas."

"Yeah, you keep saying that. I know."

"You don't have any decorations. Every house on this street looks like Santa's fucking North Pole and your house looks like no one lives in it." She shrugs in response and heads out of the room only to be followed again with his list of missing items.

"Derek shut up. I wasn't in the mood to decorate my house just for my own viewing pleasure. What are you doing here?"

"It's Christmas."

"Christ! I know already. Is that supposed to mean something to me?"

He takes a small wrapped box from his coat pocket and straightens the bow before placing it in her hand. "You got me something?" He nods and she places it on the counter. "I wasn't expecting anyone and I just…I think I…never mind, it's not important."

"I just wanted you to know how sorry I am about the way everything went down and it's Christmas so you shouldn't be alone. Not that I assumed you didn't have anything to do, I didn't and I…didn't want to be alone I guess. It was this or Mom's."

"Ok."

"Ok."

"So this is weird." She states watching him push his hands into his pockets.

"Doesn't have to be. How about that drink?" He checks his watch before replying, "Hell it's 10 am we are almost behind schedule."

"Schedule?"

"Well, let's see I have missed everything this year. Ice skating, crappy shopping which as you see I did all on my own for the first time, and then there is the caroling which I don't think we should ever do again, the classic Christmas movies and the hot chocolate. We have a busy day ahead."

Tilting her head she looks past him and into the other room. "You don't have to do this. I'm fine on my own Derek. We got divorced, this is wrong. You should go."

"I'm here because I wouldn't want to spend Christmas anywhere else in the world. It was hard for me to come down here so you better not hurt my ego and throw me out Addison."

She smiles letting down her guard. It may not be the most traditional holiday ever, and it may not be comfortable but at least it is something. Something more than a drunken stupor and crying over old memories and tattered pictures and that she will take.

**_Ending 2  
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"Mark?" She whispers. Pulling back the door to reveal him shaking the moisture from his hair and black leather jacket. She subconsciously runs her tongue along her bottom lip before biting down.

"Addie, you gonna let me in or should I stand in the rain some more?"

"Oh, right sorry." She steps back pulling her robe tight and attempts to pull her hair into something that doesn't resemble a rat's nest. He follows her throughout the house watching everything.

"Nice house. On the beach and-"

She breaks the nonsense first and leans back up against the kitchen counter. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugs before his face makes way for a childish grin. "It's Christmas."

"You hate holidays."

"I did. I did until you and Derek and then you both ruined me so I think you owe me. I was all set up and expecting a wonderful holiday and he's off somewhere with that stupid intern and you ran away." He waits for her retort but with the obvious hangover he didn't get anything and presses forward. "I got you something and I would put it under your tree but your house is mysteriously lacking all the Christmas crap." He pulls the gift from his left pocket and deposits it next to her hand.

"I didn't feel like decorating."

"I can see that."

"Seemed silly if it was just me."

"And me." Before he can stop himself he lets his lips lean into hers and places a chaste kiss on her mouth before pulling back. He lets their history melt away and displaces the anger of all past wrong doings for another time; it's the holidays after all.

"Mark…I. I don't think you should be here. You should probably go. I have to go into work and I have things to do-"

"You are going to work on Christmas? I bet a lot of expectant mothers wanted an appointment today you must be…over booked."

"I could work." She lets her fingers graze the edges of his coat before toying with the pockets on his jeans.

"Or you could stay in with me and enjoy the rain from the inside. All we need is some hot chocolate and the inevitable horrible Christmas movie reruns. You start the water and I'll grab the remote."

Hours later, cuddled into his lap she smiles trying not to drift off to sleep. Perhaps this is a colossal mistake, one that will fall right into her book of bad ideas but it feels so right that she can't stop herself. Her two weaknesses came hand in hand today and she couldn't be happier. What could be better than Mark and Christmas?  
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**_Ending 3  
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"Pete." She states angrily shuffling back into the house. He will surely follow and by the time they hit the living room they both collapse onto the couch out of dehydration and serious head pain. "What do you want?"

"Wanted to check on you." He tries to move closer and she scoots back trying not to be interested.

"I'm fine. You can leave, I'd escort you but since you woke me from my sleep my head hurts a bit much to be standing."

He lightly strokes the wayward hair from her face and places a quick kiss on the crown of her head before replying. "You drank too much. That's not my fault. I would've watched your liquor intake."

"What do you really want?"

"Well, I did come to give you this." He sets the box on the coffee table before them and she keeps restraint but folding her hands in her lap.

"You didn't have to get me anything. I'm just a co-worker and I didn't get you…anyone anything." She replies, relaxing the slightest bit.

"I wanted to. Everyone should get something for Christmas." He lays his head back again and reaches for her hand before drawing lazy circles against her palm.

"I didn't get you anything." She repeats as her mind vacates with the feather touches of his flesh against hers.

"Being here is good enough for me unless you have some hot chocolate back in that kitchen of yours. I'm a sucker for juju."

She chuckles subconsciously before remarking, "You called it juju."

"I did. Got any?" He isn't mentioning that he's heard her use it before and that's how he picked it up. He needs every break he can get here.

"I do. Are you sure you want to stay with me today? I mean I'm a mess and I'm sure you have things-"

He cuts her short and smiles while walking into the kitchen, "I don't have anywhere else to be but here."

Thirty minutes later as the sip silently and watch the TV flicker he murmurs the words she never thought she would hear out of anyone else's mouth again. "Merry Christmas Addison."

She lets her head fall onto his shoulder prepared to return his sentiments and basking in the joy of having her holiday spirit returned. It may be the most random holiday she has ever had but it is far better than spending the day wallowing about how no one cares. "Merry Christmas Pete."

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